


Being ill is a dangerous business

by Attenia



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 16:05:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19360243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attenia/pseuds/Attenia
Summary: Aragorn comes down with a minor human illness that is no true danger to him. It's Legolas' attempts to cheer him up that he needs to worry about. The prince's good intentions cause no small amount of chaos in Imladris, and Elrond starts to wonder if he needs to put his son under armed guard before things escalate.





	Being ill is a dangerous business

Aragorn   
“Go away,” Aragorn grouched. “You’re hovering.”  
“Of course I’m hovering, Estel, you’re ill!”  
“It’s just a cold, mellon nin, I’ve had them a number of times.”  
“Not when I’m here, you haven’t.” Legolas was still pacing, and it was driving Aragorn mad. “Should I cook you some soup? Elrohir says that chicken soup is sometimes good for human illnesses.”  
“Please, spare me,” Aragorn groaned. “You know you can’t cook, Legolas, I don’t need food poisoning on top of everything else. Just let Ada take care of me, he knows how. You know nothing of human ailments.”  
Legolas folded his arms. “Then I will learn. You’re my best friend, Estel, and you’re human. I have to know how to take care of you when you’re sick in case you fall ill when we’re alone in the wilds together.”  
Aragorn closed his eyes, wishing the annoying wood elf would just disappear. Ordinarily, he loved spending time with Legolas, but he knew he was awful company right now. It was bad enough he had to be sick, he didn’t want to make his friend suffer too.  
Fortunately, the twins chose that point to enter. “Don’t fret over him, Legolas.” Elladan clapped the prince on the shoulder. “Estel will be fine, he only has a minor cold. He just gets miserable and grumpy when he’s sick. All he really needs is someone to cheer him up.”  
“No I don’t! Go away, ‘Dan!”  
“You see?” Elrohir perched on the edge of his bed. “If he has the energy to complain, you don’t need to worry. He’ll be fine within a week.”  
Legolas was staring contemplatively at him, a look that Aragorn didn’t like at all. He wondered what his friend was up to.

Legolas  
Legolas wasn’t used to feeling so helpless. Usually, when there was a threat, he could fight it. If the threat was of a medical nature, he’d give his life if necessary to get Estel to Elrond, who would heal him.   
This was different. Estel was in little danger from his illness; it was only his friend’s good cheer that was in need of healing. Legolas knew he was hardly the best person to do this – not only was he horrible at any form of healing, but he was in Imladris.   
At home, he could tell the servants to do or bring anything he needed, but he didn’t feel comfortable ordering Elrond’s people around like that. He’d just have to do the best he could to care for Estel on his own. The man had already chased his brothers away in a fit of bad temper, but Legolas wouldn’t be discouraged that easily.  
He walked down to the gardens, spending a few minutes talking to the trees, asking them where he could find the kind of flowers he was looking for. He was directed to a patch of purple blossoms he didn’t recognize. Legolas started picking them, humming under his breath.  
If he left them in water in Estel’s room for no more than three days, he could re-plant them. According to the trees in the garden, these flowers could grow new roots if placed in soil not long after being picked. He wanted to cheer Estel up, but Legolas wasn’t going to murder innocent flowers to do it if he didn’t have to.  
He wondered briefly if he should check with one of the gardeners that these flowers were a suitable gift, as he would have done at home, but decided it wasn’t necessary. They were pretty and smelled nice; that was all that was required for gift flowers. No need to bother Elrond’s staff.  
Legolas walked into Estel’s room, smiling broadly. “How are you feeling, Estel?”  
“Horrible,” Estel muttered, blowing his noise loudly.  
“I got these for you.” Legolas put the flowers in a vase and moved them next to Estel’s bed.   
That got a smile from his friend. “They’re beautiful. I’ve never seen flowers like that before.”  
“Really? They were in the garden.”  
The man’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Where in the garden?”  
“In that roped-off area just behind the greenhouses.”  
Estel suddenly sat up in alarm. “Get them out, Legolas, get them –”  
He doubled over coughing, and Legolas intantly moved to his side. “Estel? What is it?”  
His friend couldn’t speak, and seemed to be struggling to breathe. Panicking, Legolas ran from the room. “Elrond! Estel needs you!”  
Moments later, Elrond came hurrying down the hall. He stepped into the room, and his eyes found the purple flowers. The elf lord took the vase and chucked it out of the window, where it smashed on the tiles below. He then picked up Estel and carried him next door, to Legolas’ chambers. By the time he was settled in Legolas’ bed, Estel’s coughing had already eased.  
Elrond turned to the prince. “Legolas,” he said in a restrained voice, “may I ask why you just tried to kill my son?”  
“What! Hir nin, I would never hurt him. I merely meant to cheer him up with some flowers.”  
“Those flowers are poisonous to humans.”  
Legolas felt a chair being pushed underneath him just as his legs gave out. “I didn’t know,” he whispered.  
“Clearly.” Elrond gave him a kind smile. “No harm done, I removed Estel from their presence quickly enough that he shouldn’t be long in recovering from their fumes. It’ll take a few days to decontaminate his room, he’ll have to move to the healing halls –”  
“Not a chance,” Estel snapped.  
“He can stay here,” Legolas said quickly. “It’s my fault, after all.” He felt horrible. He’d just been trying to brighten his friend’s day, and he’d ended up making Estel even sicker.   
Elrond exited after checking Estel’s temperature, leaving Legolas to bury his head in his hands, unable to face his friend. “I’m so sorry, Estel,” he mumbled. “I just wanted to make you feel better.”  
“Hey.” Estel reached over, taking his hand. “It’s ok, it was an accident.”  
“An accident that could have killed you.”  
“Well, at least it made things interesting.”  
Legolas just shook his head.  
Determined to redeem himself, he waited for Estel to fall asleep before hurrying down to the kitchens. He obtained the recipe for the man’s favorite cake from the chef, and set to work. Several hours later, it was ready. Legolas spent an extra hour making elaborate patterns with the icing before taking it up to Estel.  
Estel’s face lit up when Legolas brought it in. “Is that what I think it is?”  
“Chocolate cake with glazed icing,” Legolas announced proudly. He cut a slice and handed it to Estel, grinning at his friend’s eager expression.  
Estel took a bite, and the eager expression twisted into something very strained that Legolas couldn’t read. “Did… did you make this yourself?”  
“I did. Is it ok?” he asked anxiously.  
“Delicious,” Estel choked. He ate three more bites before leaning over the edge of the bed and throwing up.  
“Estel! What’s wrong?” Legolas helped his friend sit up and started cleaning away the vomit.  
“How much salt did you put in this, mellon nin?”  
“Exactly what the recipe said! Five units of sugar and five hundred units of salt.”  
Estel looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. “I’d double check that if I was you.”  
Legolas got the crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, determined to prove himself right. “See, it says it right there. Five units of… salt. And five hundred units of sugar. Oh.”  
The man patted his arm. “Don’t worry about it, gwador, I know cooking isn’t your strong point.”  
“Ugh.” Legolas threw himself onto the bed beside Estel. “How is it I can’t manage to cheer you up without making you sicker?”  
Estel was truly laughing now. “This isn’t Greenwood, mellon nin. I know you’re not used to not having servants to help you.”  
“I should be able to help my best friend without servants assisting me,” Legolas snapped. “You know what? I’m going to stick to something I’m good at. Lie down, Estel, I’m going to sing for you.”  
“Now that you are good at,” Estel agreed, stretching out on the bed. “Could you open that window? It’s kind of stuffy in here.”  
Legolas opened the window and went back to the bed, starting with one of Estel’s favorite songs. The man smiled faintly as he listened, and Legolas leaned back, enjoying singing as he always did. A colorful bird he’d never seen before landed on the windowsill and started chirping a unique tune that caught his ear.  
The prince started singing along with the bird’s melody, pleased with the new composition.  
The next thing he knew, the bird was flying straight at his face, squawking madly. He threw himself over Estel, protecting his friend, as the bird attacked. The noise drew Erestor, who must have been passing.  
By the time Erestor had succeeded in getting the bird out of the window and slamming the glass shut, there were feathers everywhere.   
“What did you do?” Erestor demanded.  
“I was just singing, and the thing attacked me.”  
“How did you ever learn the mating song of the eledin rush? And why in middle earth would you sing it?”  
“The… mating song?”  
“That bird now thinks you’re her mate!”  
Estel fell back onto the bed, howling with laughter.   
“It’s not funny, Estel,” Legolas muttered. The man was laughing so hard he started coughing again, and Elrond needed to be called. Of course, the twins found out.  
“They’ll never let me hear the end of it.” Legolas glared at the door, glad Elrond had finally kicked them out. The cursed bird was still outside the window, screeching impatiently, its eyes fixed on Legolas.   
“Go away!” he yelled. “I don’t love you!”  
Estel gasped for breath, his face red as he held his sides, laughing too hard to speak.   
The bird kept at it, and eventually Estel’s hilarity decreased, if only because the constant noise was giving him a headache.  
“Just give that stupid thing what it wants,” Estel muttered, pressing a cold compress to his head.  
Legolas stared at him in disbelief. “You want me to have sex with a bird because you have a headache? I love you like a brother, Estel, but even love has its limits. I draw my line at procreating with birds.”  
“Aw, come on – those feathers and your hair? Your children would be beautiful.”  
Legolas glowered at Estel, who was grinning.  
“Come.” He gave the man a hand up. “Let’s get out of here, maybe the idiot bird will go away if it can’t see me.”  
They snuck out of the back entrance by the kitchens, on the opposite side of the house to Legolas’ room. Estel leaned on his arm as they walked, but the man at least seemed in good cheer.   
“This is nice,” he sighed. “I hate being cooped up inside.”  
“You’d better stick to that story when asked, because your father would kill me if he knew I took you out when you’re sick.”  
Legolas was glad to see his friend smiling, and was just starting to think he was succeeding in cheering Estel up when an awful screech had them both spinning around.  
Valar, that cursed bird, again. Legolas quickly got between it and Estel, but the man stumbled as he tried to dodge the flying projectile and tripped over one of the rocks lining the path.  
A loud crack preceded Estel’s scream, which went right through Legolas. He turned in horror to find his friend clutching his leg, which looked to be broken.   
“No, Estel,” Legolas moaned, quickly helping the man lie down, ignoring the bird, which now seemed to be trying to mate with his braid. “Find a male of your own species,” he snapped at the determined creature. It took no mind, apparently set on having his children.   
The noise drew a crowd of people, and next thing he knew, Erestor was chasing the bird away while Elrond picked Estel up, carrying him to the healing halls.  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Legolas cried. “I didn’t mean to!” He hovered behind Elrond as the elf lord carefully placed Estel on one of the healing ward beds.   
Displaying the seemingly endless patience he was known for, Elrond patted the prince’s arm gently. “I know you did not mean to, penneth, but please, try not to injure my son any further, especially when he’s already sick?”  
Legolas couldn’t bear to watch as Estel’s leg was set. Though he didn’t complain, it was clear the man was in a lot of pain.   
“I’m so sorry, Estel.” Legolas felt near tears, filled with guilt at the distress and trouble he was causing his friend when he was trying so hard to help. “I – how about I read to you? Maybe it’ll help distract you from the pain.”  
Estel gave him a brave smile. “That would be wonderful, mellon nin, thank you.”  
Legolas hurried to get a selection of books from the library, and once Estel chose one, he settled down to read aloud. The man eventually drifted off, much to Legolas’ relief, though when he closed the book, Estel started to stir restlessly.  
The prince began reading again, glad when the sound of his voice seemed to soothe his friend. His eyelids started drooping as he got tired, but Legolas refused to stop. He moved the candle closer, squinting at the page, and kept reading.  
He blinked, and when he next opened his eyes, the room was full of smoke. Someone was dragging him out, and it took Legolas a few moments to gather his senses. He twisted around to see Elrohir carrying an unconscious Estel.   
“Elrohir? Is Estel ok? What happened?”  
“You fell asleep and knocked over the candle,” Elrohir said shortly.  
Legolas started struggling to get his feet under him. Elladan, who was supporting him, helped the prince into a shaky standing position. “I… started a fire?”  
“You did not mean to,” Elladan defended, but even he looked strained.  
“Is Estel alright?”  
“Minor smoke inhalation, but he’ll be fine.”  
Legolas groaned, closing his eyes. He wanted to sink into a hole in the floor and never return. He was a menace to the house of Elrond.  
“Does Elrond know yet?”  
“He’s meeting us in Estel’s room.”  
Legolas found he couldn’t meet the elf lord’s gaze as he and Estel were put into the same bed, side by side.   
“I am writing a letter to Thranduil, telling him that his son got so distressed by Estel’s illness that he tried to burn down my healing ward.”  
Legolas’ gaze eyes jerked up in horror, only to find Elrond smiling, and his eyes twinkling. “That was not funny, hir nin,” he mumbled.   
“Legolas, stop blaming yourself. You were trying to help Estel.”  
“And I almost killed him! Multiple times. I’m the worst friend in Middle Earth.”  
“You are not. You did your best to help Estel, even if your attempts did result in some… chaos. Now, the two of you are staying right here in this bed until Estel is well. You will both be supervised at all times by either myself, the twins, Erestor or Glorfindel, even when using the bathroom.”  
Normally, Legolas would have protested, but now, he just nodded dismally.  
“Good, then I suggest you get some rest.” Elrond sat down in a chair next to the bed and took out a book. Clearly, he was on first watch.  
Legolas’ lungs ached and he was exhausted. He soon found sleep taking him.  
When he woke, Estel was watching him. “I wondered how long you would sleep for.”  
Legolas grimaced. “Estel… I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to –”  
He didn’t get to finish, because Estel surprised him with a hug. “Thank you.”  
“What are you thanking me for? My attempts to cheer you up were a complete disaster!”  
The man chuckled. “Yes, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is you were here for me, and you cared enough to try. I even managed to chase the twins away, but you stayed.”  
“It would have been better if I’d stayed away.”  
Estel was grinning. “Clearly, being ill is a dangerous business with you around. But I’m glad you didn’t stay away. This has been the my most interesting convalescence by far.”  
Before he could reply, Legolas was interrupted by a thunking sound on the window, and a familiar screeching. “Will someone shoot that damn bird!” he yelled.  
“You know,” Estel mused, glancing contemplatively at the colorful creature, “I think she’s growing on me.”


End file.
